Colours of the rainbow
by Psdp
Summary: A collection of Riain one-shots at various times in their lives. Each one-shot is based on a Crayola crayon colour.
1. Unmellow Yellow

'Reet do you ever think about the future?' Iain asked as Rita entered the room. He was perched on the edge of the sofa concentrating on her eyes, a gorgeous shade of brown that caught the sun and made them sparkle, that was one of the first things he had noticed about her.

'Not really. I can't even think to remember what shifts I'm meant to be finding cover for…..I suppose we're both so busy with work.' Rita replied carefully measuring how to respond by the intensity of his gaze. 'Why do you ask?' she added. 'Just curious.' Iain shrugged as though he wasn't bothered, although Rita could tell he was anticipating her saying something more.

'Well define what you mean by the future….I mean the future is a long time. Are we talking next week, a few months or even years?' Iain sighed. 'Like us. Our future. Together.' 'Oh.' Rita's voice was shaking and tears were forming in the corner of her eyes, she begun to fiddle with the sleeves of her navy blue tunic, she wasn't sure what Iain was about to say but she was worried that her whole world and the one thing that kept her sane was going to be taken away in a split second. 'Did you want to break up?' she asked shyly.

Iain jumped to his feet holding his arms out 'Reet, come here.' Rita swiftly made her way towards Iain who gently held her close enough to hear the beating of his heart. Her head was buried in his chest, her hand gripping his shirt. Iain kissed the top of her head before replying. 'I was going to ask you to move in.' Rita's head shot up.

'I…I mean if you don't want…or you're not ready….we don't have to….' Iain mumbled but was stopped by Rita's lips brushing against his. She pulled back chewing the bottom of her lip. 'Iain Dean I love you.'

'Is that a yes?' Rita nodded before he grabbed the bottom of her shirt pulling her close, their lips meeting, his hand entangled in her hair. 'Rita Freeman I love you too.'


	2. Grey

My knees were the first thing to go buckling under the pressure. It felt as though it was coming from the top of my head, through my shoulders and body plunging me into a vast emptiness where nothing but hurt, anger and pain could be felt. I crouched with my back towards the bathroom door racing my hands through my hair in an effort to calm down and to stop the room from spinning. The air as closing in and my chest was getting tight and I was aware of the increasing pressure and the pounding of my heart underneath my jumper. Fear. Sweat was forming in fragile delicate beads that look like they could be pierced although inside I felt cold and exposed. Mark had been in the house. He had been here.

 _ **He said he had to leave, it was over for now. It was finished. This was my payback for all the things I did. I needed to suffer. I should have been good and tried to be better. I'm not even worthy to have my patients look at me. I had begged Mark to stop, I had pleaded, I had said I was sorry, my lip used to curl and I would tremble as I promised him it wouldn't happen again. I was never even sure if I was apologising or what I was saying sorry for. I would promise I would fix all my mistakes, change and become a better wife. My attempts to change fate were always futile.**_

 _ **He had a lot of strength over me and it didn't take much for him to pin my tiny 8 stone body to the floor. I had nothing to cling on except my clothes that he had ripped off and strewn on the carpet. Even beneath all the pain and fear, my racking sobs, I could still feel him touch me. The more I would scramble for air or to escape and hide, the rougher he became. The touches became bites; they were never tender like the romanticised love they speak of in romantic novels or in movies, they were gripping and tearing; possessive.**_

 _ **My skin felt as though he had cut me and I was on fire. I would wince in pain when his legs entangled mine and his hands held me captive. My chest used to be crushed under his weight and I would throw up when I felt shooting pains in my arms or legs. Although it was almost always quiet I could never hear the muffled sounds of my bones breaking. I would never shout, it only made Mark worse. I had never felt as vulnerable not even as a small child or on my first day of placement in the ED when I was a student nurse. He always said I deserved everything that I got.**_

 _ **Every time I would whimper and cry, it was like giving pain relief to a drug addict or wine to an alcoholic, he just soaked it up and like everything else and as I had witnessed countless times when nursing; he just wanted more. It would always be a mere few minutes but to me it always felt like hours each second dragging and kicking its heels in. I would sit in the bathroom with my back against the door cradling my arm or leg or whatever heart; no matter how long I sat there I couldn't learn to cradle my broken heart. My knees always ended up soaking wet with tears.**_

 _ **When I was ready and even sometimes when I wasn't I would steadily clamber into the shower and let the water run over my exposed body. I would scrub away at the skin and watch the blood trickle down the plug hole. Heart-wrung tears always fell faster. I knew exactly how to cover up bruises. I would sit there shivering helpless and scared. Every time I made a vow to myself that it would be the last time and that I wouldn't take him back, I would make a clean break and move away. I would report what he had done, I would find someone new. I was every bit as pathetic as he said, I couldn't even bring myself to say the words. Instead I always succumbed to the same routine, I just kept rocking backwards and forwards, hoping that this pain would be like everything else. It would pass.**_

I began to rock myself backwards and forwards now, hot tears pricking the corners of my eyes and that same familiar cycle and patterns of behaviour came back. Everything that had ever happened between us was all I could think about. The baby Fiona lost, the relationship they had had might have been like mine. My scars were aching like my chest. I stayed rooted to the spot, within seconds my tears were streaming, dripping off my face so fast I almost swore they had a colour. It won't be long until morning.

A short while later, I heard his voice. 'Reets?' I didn't look up even as Iain came to crouch down beside me. He touched my shoulder but that didn't stop me shaking off his hand. I didn't know how to tell him that I couldn't be saved like the patients. I wasn't even ready to be held yet all I wanted to do was crawl into his arms. Iain's thumb brushed some of the excess tears away. 'I'm here.' When my eyes met his, I could see tears were beginning to pool in the corners of his eyes. I exhaled before shuffling into his open arms.


	3. Shadow Part 1

Iain knelt on the cream carpet, one hand on her knee and the other firmly holding onto a large bouquet of mixed flowers. 'Hello mum, it's me Iain.' He spoke carefully as though each word had a lot of weight behind it. He placed the flowers on the coffee table in the lounge before inviting himself to perch on a chair opposite the comfortable armchair his mother was resting on. The flowers illuminated the area around them, the walls all seemed so dull and lifeless. 'I'm sorry I haven't been to visit you in a while.' The last time Iain visited was just over a month ago, he had been spending a lot of time with Rita and of course busy with work as a Paramedic. It wasn't that he felt obliged to visit frequently, he felt as though he had ran out of things to say.

Last time he came, she hadn't recognised him; he could be a friend, a boyfriend and if he was lucky he could be her son. That was before her speech went. She used to be so talkative. Every memory no longer etched on her brain everything just seemed to have drifted away along with any joy or happiness they had experienced when he was growing up. It was like sitting with someone who you used to know everything about but they change just as each night turns to day and before you know it someone who was so close becomes nothing more than a stranger. She had always loved flowers, she used to garden. He remembered running around the garden as a little boy. He and his brother used to play football as long as it wasn't on Mothers flowers!

Her body was unable to function, Iain wasn't sure how much she was able to take in. Her senses were drowned and she looked empty. Her body seemed like a vessel holding her organs and her heart that continued to beat despite the fact it felt that she wasn't there. She was well taken care of, always being offered nutritious meals, she always looked clean and was wearing nice clothes. Her hair was always kept short. They always left a voicemail if anything changed. Her body was so fragile and emaciated; her oral intake had been poor recently and she had been refusing her meals according to the care staff. Iain didn't know why he didn't expect this to happen. She had Alzheimer's, it's a progressive disease and something he had seen countless times. Every time he looked into her eyes he could just see someone that was the furthest thing from his mother. He wondered if she was happy and in her own idealist world or if she lived in despair. Her eyes used to be warm and comforting like Rita's. He paid part of his wages towards her care. He would sit there, sometimes for hours and just be present. They would offer him tea which he usually politely declined, never engaging in conversation with the staff just in his mother's presence.

'I've met a woman, you always warned me about girls like her.' Iain smiled as his thoughts turned to the blonde haired nurse. Rita. How could he describe her? He could talk about her purely based on looks. Petite, blonde, attractive but how could he begin to capture how she made him feel? How he could see everything in her, the way she looked at him, what she was like in bed, how she understood so much and expected so little. 'I'm thinking of asking her to marry me.'

He paused for a moment. 'You'd love her. I never thought I would be lucky enough to end up with someone like her. I used to think I would never want to settle down but when I look at her, I can't do anything else but imagine her as my wife. I will bring her here to meet you. You'd like that….mum?' Iain let out a small sigh, he pondered for a second why he always ends his sentences to his mother like questions. Almost as though she would remember the ability to speak and they would be able to discuss all the things they had missed over the past few years. He had always clung to hope with modern medicine. That's why he had decided to be a medic. At the same time he was sometimes sceptical. He hadn't even told Rita about his mother. For now that was the way it was going to stay until he was ready. Iain stood and stretched his legs for a minute, leant down kissed his mother on the forehead as she always used to when tucking him in bed. 'Good night, I love you.' He whispered before departing to get ready for the night shift.


	4. Shadow Part 2

'Morning you!' Rita called to Iain as she entered the ambulance station. Iain stopped shooting hoops and came over to greet her. Now was his opportunity to ask her before they both started their shifts. If only he could just get the words out. Standing on her tiptoes she kissed him on the lips and rested her head on Iain's shoulder before they linked arms. Iain kissed the side of her neck before nudging her over as he begun to roll the ball between the palms of his hands. 'Do you have plans after work?' he asked. 'Other than endless paperwork, organising agency staff and handling Connie's complaints, I think I'm quite busy. What is it you were going to suggest Mr. Dean?' she winked suggestively.

'Nothing that would keep me in your inappropriate thoughts. 'He laughed at first before adding. 'Iwaswonderingifyouwouldliketomeetmymother.' He mumbled quickly not looking her in the eye. 'I didn't catch a word of that Iain.' Iain passed Rita the ball hoping it would keep her distracted and stop her from asking any questions. Of course working in the medical field it was only natural that she was inquisitive and always looking for a response but sometimes Iain wanted nothing. Just silence. Rita aimed the ball at the hoop, it hit the ring before bouncing off. 'I was wondering if you would like to meet my mother.' He repeated picking up the ball as it bounced off the wall passing it back to her.

Rita's face wrinkled up and she chewed her lip nervously. 'What is she doesn't like me?' she said sadly her big brown eyes looking desperately into Iain's. 'Nah won't happen.' Rita continued to press 'How can you be sure?' 'Reet you're so special to me. I love you and I promise I will be alongside you holding your hand. My mother will love you; you're smart, sensitive, and beautiful…..stubborn.' Rita laughed. 'I told my mother I couldn't imagine spending my life with any other woman and I know once she meets you, she'll imagine this life too.' Rita threw the ball back at Iain, he could feel the sudden rush of adrenaline and fight he had in him, his heart pounding as he waited for that anticipated response; he assumed she was going to run. 'Right Mr. Dean. My shift starts in 10 minutes. I had better get there on time if I'm going to meet your mother this evening.' Iain breathed a sigh of relief before cupping Rita's cheeks resting his forehead against hers before pressing his lips where their heads had met. As he watched Rita make her way towards the ED entrance bumping into Lofty and Robyn;Iain aimed the ball at the hoop, took a shot and scored.


	5. Shadow Part 3

'You don't have to do this.' Iain repeated nervously his voice breaking the silence; it would have been a silence that was almost unbearable with anyone other than Rita. He wondered how she would react when she realised his mother wasn't going to be the kind to question her intentions, she would never watch them commit to each other, if they ever had children she wouldn't be able to hold her first grandchild close, she wouldn't be there to wipe his tears away if Rita ever got sick. Rita turned to face Iain, she had been stationary facing the window not wanting to pressure Iain into talking or feeling like he had to explain anything. 'She's your mother Iain, of course I want to meet her.' Her hand moved to rest on top of Iain's which was placed on the gearstick, giving it a gentle squeeze. Iain lips curled into an almost smile, he nodded and carried on driving not saying another word.

They didn't speak again until they approached the entrance to the care home. Rita was in nurse mode, professional, she didn't react. Once parked she removed her seatbelt and clambered out the car standing on the gravel taking in the scenery. It was warm out, there wasn't much to look at, just a few trees swaying in the gentle breeze and a few potted plants. The building ahead was huge and must have been able to house a fair few residents. She hadn't always thought of clinical settings seeming cold, the building wasn't unfriendly; it must have just been her nerves. She was about to be introduced to his mother! She took a deep breath in the same way she would do before a major RTC arrived in resus. She held out her open hand to Iain and smiled. 'You coming Mr?'

Iain came to a standstill as they moved towards the lounge door, dropping Rita's hand as he came to face his fragile mother in a sea of vulnerable people. The staff seemed aware of the presence of the attractive paramedic and the blonde woman who accompanied him, usually he came alone. 'Can I get you a tea or coffee?' one of the chirpier carers asked reminding Rita of Robyn. 'We're fine than…' '3 tea's please, milk 1 sugar.' Rita interrupted taking charge, touching Iain's shoulder gently to remind him of her presence and that she was ok with the situation. Rita watched as Iain slowly edged towards his mother kneeling down beside her. 'Mum, it's Iain. I've come to see you. I've brought someone special with me. This is Rita.' Rita knelt next to Iain, one hand around his waist, the other she placed on his mother's knee. 'Hello Mrs. Dean. I'm Rita. It's lovely to meet you.'

Iain didn't know where to put himself or what to do when the mugs of tea arrived and where placed on the table. He picked up the mug stirring the hot liquid rapidly in an effort to cool it down. There were a couple of photos in frames that were on the table. Rita observed a photo where a young Iain was laughing next to his mother and another boy with dark hair was enclosed in his mother's arms, his smile matching Iain's, their faces filled with a joy that couldn't be replicated. They looked towards the future with promise. It was a screenshot of their lives that could change quicker than the length of time it took for the camera to flash. She wondered how old they were exactly, who the other boy was, how long had his mother been in this condition. Iain noticed Rita's eyes flicking between the photos, looking deep in thought. 'That was my brother Alastair.' Their eyes met briefly. 'He died in active service.' He was holding the mug in his hand gently inclining it to his mother's lips making sure she was taking small sips, his hand was shaking the liquid jumping around. Rita let out a gentle sigh holding out her hand. 'Iain, let me do that.'

Iain stood back arms crossed watching Rita hold his mother's hand chatting away to her assisting her to drink, her steady hand balanced and her movements certain and sure. He could feel those same warm tears cloud over his eyes as she tenderly wiped her mouth with a tissue. She was looking after her as if she was her own mother. Life was precious. He imagined his brother laughing at his nerves, his girlfriend was only going to meet his mother anyone would have thought he was going to admit to mass murder. How special it was to be sitting in her presence. The delicate smile on her lips met her eyes, they sparkled as she mouthed to Iain 'I love you.' He hadn't always felt lucky with the cards he'd been dealt but seeing how much one person can change everything, Iain felt like the richest man alive.


	6. Blush

The rain was heavy, Iain traipsed into the ED, his paramedic's uniform sopping wet. He had been keeping his head down in an effort not to get soaked on the first call of the evening. 'Right this is Farian Lee, 28 years old. Involved in an RTC approximately an hour ago; head and facial lacerations, fractured tibia query fractured ribs, GCS 15, BP steady at 115/75, pulse 98, resps 17, given 10 of morphine' Iain recited every word to perfection but was concentrating on the steady flow of nurses making their way into resus and cubicles seeing if he could make out the figure of his favourite. He knew it wasn't her day off, she must have been busy with a patient or doing paperwork. Zoe raised her eyebrows at Iain 'Are you looking for Rita?' Iain shrugged, he was under no illusions that Zoe knew what was going on between the two of them but gossip spreads like wildfire and he preferred the secrecy. He made his way to leave before Zoe nudged him in the side. 'She's working in cubicles.'

Eventually he found his way to the small blonde figure hunched over the desk. He leaned over to kiss her neck quickly before winking, she followed behind to one of the empty cubicles. 'I'm game if you are.' He teased. 'Remember what happened last time we were almost caught.' Rita remembered the sound of Zoe's heels and the surge of adrenaline as she grabbed her penlight pretending to do neuro observations on Iain. Iain joked 'I thought you liked danger.' Rita sighed. '5 minutes, we'll have to be quick.' Iain watched as she shut the curtains around them. 'Anyway Zoe's in resus.' He murmured before their lips crashed, Iain's tongue against Rita's fighting for dominance. He pulled her onto his lap, her hands snaking around his waist peeling off his wet jacket and shirt. His hands were resting, one in the small of her back, the other on her thigh, hers were running up and down his chest and back. He was leaving small bites over her neck being careful not to leave too many marks; after all that would give the game away.

Their bodies pressed together, they continued to kiss passionately, only stopping to catch up with their breathing. Iain carried on moving his way from her neck to her jawline and finally settling on her lips. Rita giggled when Iain picked her off her feet pulling her onto the bed on top of him. They were still gazing into each other's eyes intently when Lofty's head appeared in the curtain. 'Rita I…..' he stopped mid-sentence. Rita sharply turned her head towards the stuttering nurse, her mouth open, eyes widened in shock. All they needed was to be caught by one of the nurses! Iain wanted to roar with laughter, he wasn't sure who had gone a brighter shade of red, Lofty or Rita. 'Close the curtain on your way out.' Iain suggested to Lofty who had seemingly frozen in time. He swiftly made his way out of cubicles trying to erase that image from his mind. 'Lofty have you seen Rita, is she in cubicles?' Robyn piped up. 'Sister. Freeman is currently occupied.' Was about all he could mutter still scarlet with embarrassment.


	7. Tickle me pink

Iain stood one hand on his hip, his forearm resting on the wall to the entrance of the bedroom smirking as his girlfriend (blissfully unaware of his presence) was dancing to a Taylor Swift song. Wearing nothing but a mismatched pair of lacy underwear. Iain marvelled at the shape of her body, how much he wanted to run his hands down her hips, make his way across her porcelain skin exploring every inch with delicate kisses. She seemed so relaxed and carefree.

Iain chuckled 'Who'd of thought it, clinical nurse manager Sister. Freeman a secret Taylor Swift fan.' Rita carried on regardless this time singing the lyrics loudly, allowing Iain to think he'd won before she cheekily replied 'I thought I overheard you practising One Direction in the shower the other night. Practising for the karaoke were you?' 'Eh?' he stuck his tongue out at her realising she had been aware of him studying her from the doorway the entire time and rather than being self-conscious seemed to be relishing the idea.

Running up to her shaking his hips, Rita couldn't help but cry with laughter at his awkward dad dancing. She let her fingers rest in-between his and the couple twirled around, Iain spun Rita and they swayed to the music gently, her head pressed against his chest in an attempt to get him to move in time with the music. 'Two left feet Mr. Dean.' She commented as she wiped the tears from her eyes, he raised his eyebrows. Scooping her up in his arms, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her arms securely around his neck as he traced circles on her back and all areas of her body she had named her ticklish spots. He put her on the bed as she ripped off his shirt ready for the next step. They were happy to be in each other's company even if he couldn't dance. 'You'll have to teach me a few moves.' He winked. Their lips met before her soft laughter continued to fill the air.


	8. Black

'You must really love him to do this….why didn't you and Mark have children?' Fiona's voice run in Rita's ears. Rita swallowed hard before looking away unable to make eye contact with the young girl.

 _ **As a little girl Rita always had romanticized ideas about hearing the steady heartbeat of someone she loved. Their gentle pounding, a source of comfort and strength in her ears. Her hand came to rest on her toned stomach where her baby laid. She understood that each little flutter was the baby acknowledging her presence, it felt her heart beating closer than anyone else. It wasn't an ideal time to have a baby having started work as a staff nurse. Mark hadn't mentioned wanting children, she hadn't told him yet, she was waiting for an ideal time but he was always busy of had been drinking and wasn't in the right frame of mind. She had wanted to make sure she was pregnant first, several tests later. All signs positive and a couple of weeks later she still hadn't found the right moment. Never the less she was still holding onto the idea of the fragile new life inside her. She had imagined how the baby would look, would it have her nose? A baby would bring a lot of sorrow but also a great deal of joy. Everything could be perfect for a short while, she could dream of how differently their lives could be.**_

 _ **Cramps that felt as though they were pulsating out through her sides and the tears that fell reminded her that it wasn't always possible to pretend everything is ok. Bruises covered her body, mainly her top half. They were mostly the size of fingers, some the shape of his palm or even a fist. The air was still stale with her silent screams and the smell of alcohol from his breath. The carpet was wet with floods of tears and spots of congealed blood.**_

 _ **She went to bed alone that night. Razor like abdominal pains woke her from a daydream, she never really slept even when she was curled up to his side. Flicking on the lamp besides Mark's side of the bed, she sat bolt upright. The sheets were soaked. Completely awake, nerves standing on end, she lifted her fingers to see them covered in sticky red clots. It wasn't Mark's fault, she hadn't told him she was pregnant. He didn't know. She should have protected her baby. She was meant to be providing shelter, she had always felt strong but sometimes her wall comes crumbling down and she feels nothing. Just empty and lost in a sea of people who know what they're doing and where they're heading. A normal response to pain would be to cry but she'd already messed up enough and her pain was more than physical. It cut through her like a knife.**_

 _ **2.48am. Mark would be home soon. He would expect her to be waiting for him. He couldn't find her like this. All she wanted to do was lie down, forget the world and let the streams of tears flow. It was hard to remember that life was going to carry on, it didn't stop in time just because her life had come to a standstill and her baby's life had ended before it had even really began. Rita managed to scramble out of the bed, clutching at her tummy in a wild attempt to control the pain. Picking up the sheet, she folded it in half, and then quarters. She could wash the sheets but they wouldn't come clean. They would always be grey with a red accent. She could throw them away but just because you can't see something doesn't make it invisible. What would he say? It was all her fault, she should have been more careful. Flooded with emotion, unable to make a decision, she gripped the sheets containing a false sense of hope holding them close to her aching heart.**_

'I'm not here to discuss that.' Rita blinked back the tears, making the difficult decision to be there as a nurse and nothing more. How badly she wanted to say about her baby who would have been about 5 years old now. Her baby would have started school, would be able to walk. She couldn't help but think if their first word would have been 'mama.' She often felt guilty as though she had forgotten about the baby but the truth was she thought about her baby often. Sometimes she thought it turned out how it was meant to be, she would have been a useless mother, she couldn't protect herself never mind her child. Looking at the young girl, she wanted to tell her everything would be fine in the end. In reality it's so much different. It changes your life. Rita closed her eyes briefly listening out for the beat of her heart.


	9. Black part 2

'Cup of tea.' Rita held out a mug to Iain, filled to the brim with the warm liquid. Iain reached out for the mug. 'Budge over.' She added. He moved his legs giving her enough room to clamber in-between his body and the arm of the sofa. She slid on the seat, curled up to him tucking her arm around his and letting her head rest on his chest. Iain kissed the crown of her head sighing, knowing he still had three hours left on shift was killing him. It had been a particularly tough shift; they had various calls, a married couple the woman in her third trimester injured in an RTC, a patient suspended and a myocardial infarction alongside a few broken bones. He had observed Rita hadn't seemed herself all day. She was probably stressed from all the extra shifts she had picked up due to being short of staff and the huge burden that came with being Clinical Nurse Manager.

'Rough day.' He said quietly using his free hand to trace shapes on her hip, fiddling with her uniform just to remind her he was there sometimes it was better than asking too many questions or pushing for her to let him in. She knew he was there and feeling the warmth that came from having her close gave him strength and comfort too. 'She lost the baby Iain.' He glanced over at the usually strong fronted nurse was crumbling apart. They always used to say during training that there would be cases that make you emotional.

'I'm sorry.' Iain himself had only ever seen one baby die before. In training, on a shift with Dixie and Jeff. A premature baby girl, after a traumatic birth. They hadn't got there in time. It was a baby girl, too young to be taken away from her mother. Her eyes were closed, they never opened to see the world, her lungs never expanded to see her take a breath. Every porcelain delicate feature on her body was perfect. 10 fingers and 10 toes, she was almost pixie like except pale, limp, cold and unresponsive. The mother had understood that her baby didn't survive but nothing could shield those screams and cries for that tiny life that never quite made it. He hadn't been able to tear his eyes away as that mother only young herself cradled her lifeless daughter's body in her arms. He was used to treating everyone especially those who abused their bodies, it never seemed fair this idea of life and death. He wasn't going to pretend he could understand the pain that a mother feels when losing a child especially one before they had a chance to live. I'm sorry were always the only words he had learnt to say when someone died, they were the only words that her could verbalise when he was still trying to internalise his own feelings and didn't feel like speaking at all.

'I lost a baby….when I was with Mark.' As she began to share with him more of the experience, her hand was pressed against his chest to keep her as steady as the beat of his heart even though she was beginning to shake at the thought of those sheets. She'd only recently thrown them away after Mark had wrecked her apartment since being with Iain. It was difficult to explain what they are to each other. Friends because she can be herself around him, he had seen her at her worst and best and when he wasn't being a Northern git he made her laugh. More than that because she needed him like oxygen, she only felt truly alive when she was in the same room as him holding his hand and when their lips met; she felt on fire. Feeling helpless Iain couldn't even say the words I'm sorry. It showed him how even though he thought he knew her body by touch, some scars can't be seen. He hadn't shared with her some of his darkest moments, it always made him realise how much more they had to learn about each other. They are perhaps nothing more than a perfect stranger.

It could have been very different. He could imagine Rita holding a baby, she was always so motherly and tender with the children in the ED. Anger came in waves at how could someone take something so precious and throw it away. How Rita had no one to check if she was ok, to reassure her, to comfort her but also anger at himself and how he couldn't give her what she needed in this moment because he could never understand what it was like to lose a child. All he could do was stay in the moment, in some way glad that she trusted him enough to speak about the things that broke her heart. Instead he stayed still before kissing her temple thinking about the future hoping he would never allow her to feel that way. 'Cup of tea Reet?'


End file.
